


You Promised Forever

by indierection (amandamoraisa)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Adoption, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Car Accidents, Divorce, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Established Relationship, Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Life, Oral Sex, Power Bottom Harry, Smut, Top Louis, sad sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandamoraisa/pseuds/indierection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Harry wants a baby. Louis wanted a baby. Now he's not so sure.]</p><p>Of course they've always wanted to have kids, even as young as they were in 2012. But it's only ten years later, when they've been married for already three and One Direction is no longer together, that Harry and Louis will finally get to start their own family.<br/>Or at least that's what they thought, because Louis suddenly feels the pressure of fatherhood on his shoulders as he realizes he has to be responsible for another human being; and if that's not terrifying he doesn't know what it is. He is, in fact, having these sudden panic attacks when he thinks too much about the future.<br/>Yet, Louis just sucks it up because he's losing his mind, but Harry has already to much on his. Besides, in the end they are fireproof. Aren't they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had this plot in my head for SO long, you can't even imagine. I have a soft spot for angst, I really have, but I'm always concerned about writing too much drama and end up with a soap opera in my hands.  
> Anyways, Louis is suffering from anxiety, so if that triggers you I think you should consider not reading it. I hope I made justice to people who suffers from this disorder and if anything is offensive in any way I'd love to be corrected.  
> Also, I hope the fluff parts make up for all the angst ahead.  
> This is a two shot, only because I really wanted to post it and hear feedback, even thought the fic it's only 80% finished.  
> Have a nice reading :)
> 
> -
> 
> I made this fic [a mixtape on 8tracks](http://8tracks.com/amandamoraisa/you-promised-forever) and if you fancy a broken heart you should definitely give it a listen.

“Come dance with me” Harry says offering a hand. Louis has a cheeky reply waltzing on the tip of his tongue, ( _there's not even music on, you numpty!_ ) but when he looks up and catches his husband giving him heart eyes he forgets all the words he knows.

So he just steps closer, till Harry can grab a hold of his waist, still looking at him with hooded eyelids. As much as it's fair to say they had a ridiculous amount of wine, that look Harry is giving him... that's Harry's Louis look.

It's still unsettling, even after more than ten years, being burnt under that scrutinizing and adoring look. Although now it's so familiar, although now he can look back with the same intensity, it still makes his heart flutter. Especially when he's tipsy.

Harry hums in appreciation when Louis lays his head on his chest. Their feet aren't even leaving the ground, Harry is just rocking them gently, one hand soothing, going up and down Louis back. Harry's stupid reindeer Christmas jumper smells like roasted turkey and rosemary, but there's a faint smell of his cologne as well, so Louis closes his eyes breathing the moment in.

“Happy Birthday” Harry whispers against his hair, so low and delicate that he knows he's saying again, for the millionth time since they woke up this morning, because this time he really means it. As a thank you for the wonderful day. He says it because he's glad Louis is there with him and because he doesn't even know how they managed to spend some Christmases apart. And Louis feels exactly the same.

He lets his fingers play with the springy bits of hair on Harry's nape, feeling ecstatic when he stops to think about everything. He doesn't even believe this is his life. Still doesn't. He doesn't deserve world fame and the love of his life on the same package, that's too much luck.

“I love you too” Louis says against the wool, drunk and wholehearted.

“I never said I love you, darling” Harry jokes and Louis can hear the smile on his voice. God, he loves Harry so much.

“ _You_ were the first to say if I reckon” Louis mocks, remembering seventeen-year-old Harry making him loose all his breath as he confessed his dying love for Louis.

(They were snuggling in the couch of their shared flat, as they used to do whenever they were on a break. Right after they've had breakfast, when the morning show was on on the telly, the opening credits playing on the background, Harry turned to Louis with big serious eyes and said _'I love you, yeah? You know that, don't you?'_ )

Harry chuckles at that, probably remembering too, and Louis takes the opportunity to detached from him just a small bit and have a look at his face. He kisses him in a bad attempt to apologize, and Harry might melt against his lips, hands slacking on Louis' back until they're just a faint feeling over his bum, but when they stop Harry still replies:

“It's not a competition, Lou.”

“Fine” he says exasperated. “I love you, full stop.”

Harry doesn't say anything at first, just smiles that thousands kilowatts smile of his. He's such a dork, doesn't he already know Louis loves him more than anything?

“I love you too, silly” he says after some minutes rocking them back and forth again.

“You're silly” Louis mumbles against his jumper, but it loses its effect when Harry holds his head on place and hums appreciative again. Louis could definitely sleep like that. He's _almost_ sleeping like that.

  
Their place is a mess. They had a dinner party at the 24th to celebrate Louis birthday and at first it sounded like a great idea.

Zayn, Perrie and their kids, Amina and little Ras, were there. Liam too, with his new girlfriend, and Ben, Carl and a couple from their building they got friends with. Everyone seemed to get along and have a nice time.

As Harry looked around at all the smiley faces on his dinner table, he was glad they hosted the party. So glad that he even made a mental note to plan others more often. Now he's not so sure, especially after settling a passed out Louis on their bed and spotting their coffee table marked with stains for life.

He collects all the glasses and puts on the sink, filling the dishwasher as much as possible and he considers giving the floor a quick sweep, but gives up when he realizes it's futile. There are Christmas crackers and wrapping paper all over the place. Someone managed to spill bread sauce on the carpet which, really? The maid will deal with that.

Harry grabs himself and Louis a cup of water and turns off the lights feeling like he couldn't be happier than that, even if he wanted. Louis is snoring when he gets to their room, but Harry pokes his husband until he shifts and turns around, just softly breathing after that.

Jumping out of his clothes and into the bed, he lets his body set onto the soft sheets for a moment before kissing the top of Louis head and rolling to his side to sleep, sighing pleased because yeah, he definitely couldn't be happier than that. Little he knew how wrong he was.

-

Caribbean is their place. They love the weather, they love the people, they love the beaches. (They had a nautical themed wedding, for god's sake!). They've been to Jamaica, Bahamas, Cuba, Aruba... This time they decided to go the Cayman Islands and it's amazing.

The villa they are staying in is gorgeous. During the day their skins turn golden under the sun but during the night they still manage to mark each other with love bits. They have sex under the stars, muffling the waves crashing below the balcony with the sound of their own bodies against each other.

It's recluse where they're staying, but they drive down from the Spanish Bay to George Town to buy groceries. That day, Louis insists they must swim with stingrays because he's done it once and it was brilliant.

Harry can't stop thinking about how The Crocodile Hunter died stung in the chest by one, but when Louis points a little girl floating between the fishes, and when Louis holds his hand, Harry relaxes.

They spend the New Years Eve drinking champagne and watching the sea laying on a hammock. Harry claims that the salty water will wash away all bad energy from the year that is gone, and Louis doesn't know if he believes it, but he lets his husband drag him into the ocean anyway. They have the cleansing swim right after midnight, snogging on the warm water as fireworks light up the sky.

“Happy 2022” Harry mutters against Louis' mouth and Louis loves him so much.

“You too, love” he whispers into Harry's tan shoulder, having a bite of the tender glistening wet flesh.

Harry wiggles, splashing water around, and Louis notices that his face is glowing even though it's so dark and that he's hard against Louis' hipbone. So Louis drags his husband out of the sea and lays him down gently on the bed inside the villa, much to Harry's protests.

“It will dry off, just let me take care of you, baby” Louis says against the trail of hair leading inside Harry's ridiculously short shorts. He kisses adoringly the taste of ocean and watches mesmerized as Harry shivers under him even though it's so hot. “Hm?” he pleads teasingly, finally pulling down the tented purple swimshorts.

“Ok” Harry agrees, becoming eager when the sea breeze hits his groin, burying a hand on the back of Louis neck to anchor himself. “I'll let you be my first shag of the year” he growls, so deep that Louis dick immediately responds inside of his own shorts.

Harry doesn't even need to guide Louis mouth to the leaking head of his cock; as soon as he shuts up there's a tongue licking the salt out of him. Harry's in paradise when softness involves him and in an even better place after – when Louis, sweaty, tanned, sticky, glorious and his husband Louis hugs against his side, humming softly and satisfied, feeling blessed as well.

-

It's the first day of the year and they're nurturing a bit of a hangover back on the hammock. Harry cooked them a massive brunch and now they lay under the sun like a pair of lizards. It's an idle afternoon and the air is stagnated, even the wind doesn't feel like doing much. Louis weights on top of Harry, but Harry doesn't mind because that's exactly how they spent their honeymoon in Thailand.

“Remember our honeymoon?” Harry asks dragging lazily a hand along the curve of Louis small back.

“Hm” Louis hums with his eyes closed. “Not quite...”

“Looou” Harry whines pinching his side. Louis jerks, making the hammock swing, and then laughs bright and open, so loud that it echoes on the desert beach.

“Of course I do, love” Louis says when he tones down, and since he knows exactly the point Harry wants to make, he adds: “And yes, it does feel like our honeymoon.”

“Doesn't it? Though maybe the sex is better now...”

“Maybe?” Louis asks in a pretence offence. “My tongue is still numb from...”

“I know, I know” Harry says interrupting, feeling warm all over again. Jesus, just the thought of Louis taking care of him last night is enough to make him want to do it all over again. If only his head wasn't pounding so much right now... “That was lovely.”

“Harry Styles, describing rimming as _lovely_ ” Louis mocks biting Harry on the chest. It's Harry's turn to squirm, and this time they swing so fast that he's sure they will end up on the ground with cracked skulls.

“Lou, doesn't matter how much you make fun of me, you still love me to bits” he says when they settle down again, Louis hoovering over him, casting a shadow on his face. Louis smiles and that's the only thing Harry can see, a flash of white pointy teeth that grow closer and closer to his mouth until they are kissing.

“A bit, yeah” Louis says between kisses.

“Quite a bit?” Harry murmurs still not letting Louis go.

“A tad bit” Louis says pecking Harry, pecking and pecking until they are kissing again; until they can't breathe. Louis sighs inside Harry's mouth and Harry giggles against his. Louis steals one more small kiss before sitting down on top of his husband saying: “I'm messing, dear. I couldn't ask for anything more.”

“No? Maybe some children...”

“Yes. Yes, of course” Louis agrees rubbing Harry's hip tattoos. “We did what we had to do, right?” he asks, thinking about all the work they've been through the past months just to get their names approved and put on the adoption waiting list on the agency.

Proving income and stability was easy, but the formal assessment, the stage of the home visit, was pretty stressful – Harry threw away a pair of sex toys _'Just in case, Lou. You know, better safe than sorry'_ and tidied up the flat until he got intoxicated with the chemicals of cleaning products. It was ridiculous.

Susan, their designated social worker, stayed for only twenty minutes and she didn't rummaged their closets or cupboards – although she did compliment Harry for his recycling station.

Things almost blew up when the agency explained that they get extra cautious when it's a gay couple and they ended up finding out about Louis' weed video. Thanks God they had a talk with Susan and convinced her it was all in the past now.

But yeah, Louis is excited to do it. Have kids with Harry. Sounds amazing, even though things are so unsure; they are on this waiting stage that you never know how long is going to last. So Louis just says, for the hundredth time in the last couples of months: “Now the only thing to do is...”

“Wait” Harry completes. “Yeah, you're right. I handled the last forms in what... beginning of November?” Louis nods. “It's too soon. But I'm kind of nervous” he confesses, looking up at Louis so vulnerable that Louis' heart sinks a bit on the chest. Harry is such an idiot, everyone agrees he was ready to be a father since he was born.

“Don't be, you'll be the best dad in English History, Harry” Louis soothes, laying on top of him again to kiss all his fears away.

“You too. I'm so glad you're in this with me” Harry says brushing Louis' hair away very tender. Louis loves him so much. He's so far gone for this dork, always was, always will. And he has to make sure Harry knows it, but almost as if it's a secret, or maybe just something too big to be said in a normal tone, he says in a small soft voice:

“I'm always here, pet. Always.”

-

The best thing about being a free adult, with plenty of money and health, is being able to do anything you want, whenever you want. Of course they have some commitments, but it's nothing that they cannot postpone a week or two. Even though they are free to do anything, on top of the world, reality hits hard.

It's very subtle at first. Harry is expected in LA on the next Monday, so they fly to America after fifteen days in paradise. It's quite a shock being greeted with cameras flash, even though nowadays is no more than a couple of paparazzi. Still, Louis will never get over the fact that now they can stroll the airport holding hands, rocking matching tans and proud smiles and headbands.

Their house in LA is all dusty and abandoned, so they spend the night in a hotel while the cleaning service takes care of their home. Harry is helping to produce a folk duo first album and they are hitting the studio during January, planning the release before Easter.

Since Louis doesn't have much to do with the Rovers he's planning to stay there with Harry the whole time. The first two weeks are quite frantic and they don't see each other much because Harry is overworking, trying to finish as quick as possible – even though Louis assured him he doesn't mind living in America, not at all.

Louis keeps himself busy fixing some things around their house – the automatic gate is stiffen and the pool is just plain nasty. He visits Harry in the studio some days, but doesn't want to be a distraction. Niall is in LA too, so he and Louis get to hang all the time. Well, when Niall is not working with music as well.

Niall is there the night they get the call. It's funny because it's past midnight and they're just having some beers while Harry is describing his day when his mobile rings.

It's an odd hour to receive a phone call, but as Harry walks to the kitchen to get the call, he realises it's an English number and it's morning there.

“Mr. Styles?” Susan, their social worker, says from the other end of the line. “This is the call you and your partner have been waiting for” Harry squeaks at that. “You've been linked to a child. Well, two children.”

“What?” he yells, instantly sprinting to the other room, looking for Louis to say the big news. He's on the living room lounging on the sofa next to Niall. “Lou! Lou, it's Susan!” Louis is jumping now too, running at him like The Flash, talking excited:

“No! What's she saying? What happened? Did we...?”

Suddenly Harry remembers she must be waiting on the line. “Sorry, Susan we were...”

“I know” she says sympathetic, chuckling. “I'm used to that reaction. It's a good sign. Want me to give you instructions now or should I e-mail you?”

Louis is jumping on his feet, watching Harry desperate, and he doesn't calm down when Harry mouths _'We got it'_ with the biggest smile on his face. At this point Niall is there too, after watching all the commotion.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“I think...” Louis is starting to say, but it's so odd. Sounds weird just phrasing it on his mind. He's sort in disbelieve. “I think we are going to be fathers?”

Niall is instantly hugging him and Harry must have hanged the phone because he's involving the two men into a crushing bear hug. When Niall squeezes out of the mess of limbs Harry kisses Louis full on, holding his head between his two hands and locking lips until it hurts. He's still smiling like mad when he pulls away.

“What did she say?” Louis asks feeling breathless. He ignores the uneasiness pooling on the pit of his stomach as the news start to sink in. Where did that even came from?

“We... we got a baby. Two! I mean, it's a baby and he has an older sister, she's four. And... Louis I'm so happy” he cheers hugging Louis again, taking him out of the ground and sinking his face on the crook of Louis' neck.

“I think we need to go back to England?” Harry says when he lets go. “I mean, _we need_ to go back to England, for sure. Susan is sending us everything we need to know about them; family background, why they came into care, their characteristics, medical historic...”

Louis is still a bit overwhelmed. It's just... too much to take in. “When do we need...?”

“Wednesday. We have a final meeting with her, after reading all about the children, you know? And then if everything is alright – fingers crossed – we will meet them soon.”

“Brilliant” Louis says, and it wasn't meant to come out as flat as it came. It was supposed to match Harry's enthusiasm, but the truth is that he wasn't expecting this to happen anytime soon. They said it could take _years_ to find a newborn baby as they wanted. Now they have to drop their plans and rush back to UK. “Brilliant” he repeats, as if he's trying to convince himself more than anything.

-

The match is approved in five days and then they are ready to formally meet Tilly and Alfie. Those are their names. Of course Harry is ten times more nervous than Louis – he didn't get much sleep the night before – but Louis is dead anxious too. They drive to the agency almost in silence, just the radio on on the background. Harry's hand is on Louis thigh but his eyes focused on the streets passing by.

When they get there, ten minutes earlier because Harry couldn't wait anymore, Susan is there fixing the room where they'll be introduced for the kids. There are toys everywhere and a small table with tea and biscuits. She says they can sit down and help themselves as she will see if the children are ready. Louis pours tea for himself, but Harry just shakes his head dismissively when Louis asks if he wants some.

“Harry,” Louis calls squeezing one of his hands. “It will be fine, ok? You are amazing, they will love you just like I do. Now, remember to breathe.”

Harry keeps chewing on his bottom lip as he takes a deep breath, and Louis squeezes his hand even harder to bring Harry out of his torpor. It's so endearing how nervous Harry is; Louis wants to hug his husband until he can't breath. Harry is turning to him to say something, a weak smile tinted on his worried face, when the door swings open.

Susan comes in with a blonde toddler on one hand and a tiny little bundle of blankets on the other. The chubby girl has pigtails and she looks very shy, hiding behind the social worker when they stop in front of the two men. She's the cutest thing Louis have ever seen and Louis wonders how someone could ever abandon that little angel.

He would like to say he paid more attention to the children, but the truth is that he's been watching Harry most of the time. It's incredible how his face just crumbles as soon as he spots the girl.

Harry bits on his lips until his mouth is just a thin line, eyes glassy and fisting his shirt unconsciously. When they stop in front of Harry it looks like he's immediately hooked, absolutely in trance, watching with adoring eyes as the girl bites on her nail, looking suspicious at him.

“Hi, I'm Louis” Louis says to her because Harry seems speechless. Her attention changes from Harry to Louis, Tilly eyeing _him_ suspiciously now.

“I'm- I'm Harry” the other man spurts and Louis loves him so much. The last time he remembers Harry being so nervous like this was three years ago, when they were getting married.

“This is Tilly and this” Susan says looking down softly at the baby on her arms “is Alfie. Do you want to hold him?”

“Yes” Harry blurts out, standing up as if he was stung by a wasp. He fumbles to get the baby and then he's holding the small pile of blankets as if it's the most expensive thing he ever had on his hands.

“You can relax a little bit” Susan says fixing the swaddle but Harry is too busy staring at the lovely face of Alfie to pay attention.

Louis gets up to have a look at the baby too and Harry was right to hold him like he's a treasure because Alfie is probably the most precious thing he has laid eyes on. The baby is brown and he has big dark eyes that stare up at Louis curious.

He can't help but smile at the sweet little thing. When Louis locks eyes with Harry they have mirrored smiles on their faces. Louis' heart swells and he wonders how it's still fitting inside his chest. The last time he loved people at first sight like was... well, when he met Harry in the bathroom.

“That's my baby brother” a small voice says breaking the moment, and Louis is instantly crouching to Tilly's eye level.

“That's Alfie, isn't it?” he asks and he knows it's stupid, but she nods, thumb still on her mouth, and that's something, right? “Can Harry hold him just for a tiny bit?” and she nods again, this time giving him a small smile.

“Promise you'll give him back to me?”

Louis raises his eyebrows to her before answering: “Pinky promise.” Then, he cups his mouth conspirational, and as if he's telling her a secret, he whispers: “I'm a big brother too, I'm always taking care of my baby sisters.”

“Do you have _a sister_?” she asks gobsmacked, curious and envious, so cute that Louis wants to take her home immediately.

“Five. And a baby brother too.”

“Wow, Louis” Susan exclaims, and for a moment he had forgotten she was still in the room. “You're natural with kids, uh?”

He looks up but the first thing he spots is Harry staring at him so fiercely that Louis stumbles to get back up. They smile at each other again and now Louis notices that Susan is taking notes. “Switch?” Louis asks his husband, already making grabby hand to the swaddled baby.

Harry spends the following minutes playing tea party, slurping loudly on tiny lilac plastic cups and making the little girl laugh. Louis just sits down watching, his heart swelling on his chest as the warm baby goes back to sleep in peace in his arms.

-

“I'm just saying... it was too sudden” Louis sighs frustrated taking off his glasses. He sits down on the bed, banging his head dramatically against the headboard. He shouldn't have said anything, he doesn't even know for sure how he's feeling about this whole situation.

After the perfect morning at the agency they went out for lunch and it was brilliant too. They walked to the restaurant holding hands and Harry couldn't brush the smile from his lips. They kept stealing glances over the food as if they were teenagers again and there was so much... love.

Just love in the in air, like, Louis felt surrounded by this love bubble. Everything sounded so much like a dream that he couldn't let himself go, not quite. No one could be this happy and fulfilled, was that even humanly possible? It was terrifying to think of how bad the fall would be if something went wrong.

“Well, we knew it was coming” Harry replies putting away the Murakami book he's reading, fumbling to sit down too. He sounds a bit peeved, like when Louis is crossing the line when mocking someone.

Louis stares at the ceiling regretting opening his mouth for starters. But since they are already having this conversation he tries to explain: “They said it could take _years_!”

“Aren't you glad it didn't?” Harry snaps quickly, still staring at his profile. Louis closes his eyes because he can't deal with it. Why are they even discussing this before sleeping? (Because Louis was feeling unsettled during the whole day, anxious about the unknown future, feeling like something would go wrong anytime. He was as nervous as in the day they came out).

“No, it's not...” he mumbles burying his face on his hands, then rubbing his stubble frustrated. “I... I don't think we're prepared.”

“What are you _saying_?” Harry asks, coming off just as offended now.

“Have you... Have you give it a thought? Like, really _thought_ about it? What bringing up a child means?”

“Of course” Harry spurts indignant. “Of course I have.”

Louis looks at him for the first time since they started this discussion and his heart sinks a bit because Harry looks... hurt. This is awful, Louis should have just sucked it up.

“Ok,” he says softer now, “then you must agree with me that it's terrifying, right?” he lets out a nervous laugh. “How many things we have to give up and also... it's _another human being_ depending on you for _everything_.”

Harry is staring intently at his hands and Louis wants to punch himself. They stay in silence for too long and Louis doesn't even know what to do, so he just keeps watching Harry as he struggles with whatever he's considering inside his head.

“Lou...” he finally says, “we've been talking about this since we were _teenagers_.” The way his voice cracks at the last word is heartbreaking.

“I know” Louis replies untangling Harry's nervous fingers with a tug on his chest. He loves Harry so much. Louis holds each hand inside of his, getting a shiny glimpse of their wedding bands as he does so. “But it seemed so far away” he confesses as if simply words would fix and justify the mess he's making. “And now... now it's here.”

Harry doesn't rush, taking his time to think of an answer, and Louis thinks it's quite unfair when he himself always says the first thing that comes to his mind. So he rubs a thumb on the back of his husband's hand encouraging, until Harry is saying:

“Now we have all the support to do it. Now we can finally have our family, after all that we've been through...” Harry stops, as if suddenly realising something. “Are you afraid?” he asks looking up at Louis from their intertwined hands.

Louis sighs again and for half a second he considers lying but that is Harry right there, his Harry, so he just half-smiles and admits: “Absolutely.”

“Come here” Harry pleads already putting a hand behind Louis' shoulder. Louis tries to resist, but Harry is strong, especially when he's determined. “Come here, you silly” he repeats, fond and so familiar that Louis stops fighting.

They hug for a long time, Louis arms involving Harry's waist and chin hooked on the curve of his neck. Harry's hands clasped on the other man's shoulder are comforting and tranquillizing and as Harry keeps cherishing him, Louis can't help but think that Harry is too good. Too good to _him_.

He was very aware of that from the beginning, obviously, but when things like this happen, when he breaks Harry and the other man still has his arms open for Louis... It makes Louis mad. He feels unworthy and stupid, and so grateful.

“It just felt right, you know?” Harry says after a long silence, his voice reverberating on his ribcage and blowing some of the hair off of Louis' ear. “Tilly and Alfie. I'm in love with them and I can see so clear in my mind we raising these two kids to become... nice human beings.”

Louis doesn't say anything, he just hugs Harry even more tight. There are a thousand things he wants to apologise for, but he doesn't know how. So he just buries his face on the crook of Harry's neck, pressing his lips against his warm skin, attempting to ask quietly for forgiveness, hoping Harry can understand him just with that.

“I think maybe we should sleep on it?” Harry suggests when Louis arms are already numb from being crushed between Harry's back and their headboard. He doesn't mind the pricking the slightest, but lets go reluctantly.

As soon as his head hits the pillow Harry is there hoovering him, looking loving as always. He fixes Louis fringe and kisses his forehead.

“I saw that you made a connection with them. Please, don't let your fear of commitment get in our way again” Harry begs blunt and it hits Louis like a punch. Harry has the power to say these sort of too sincere things so casually, it's too... honest, too raw.

When he lines up with Louis on the mattress. Louis seeks Harry's hand under the duvet, and when he finds it he holds it back and kisses his husband's fingers in reverence.

Looking into his eyes Louis feels washed with all kinds of emotions, a wave after another, like the Caribbean sea. Harry crashes against his shore relentlessly, one feeling tumbling over the other, each wave distinct and special on their own, never the same.

“It was just a panic attack, pet” Louis mutters. “I'm sorry.”

Harry nods, eyes starting to fade out. And Louis loves him so much.

They fall asleep holding hands, their tattooed arms linked throughout the whole night.

-

They decide to move out before the kids move in with them. The real state agent starts looking for something in Surrey, since they agree that bringing up children in the city will be chaotic. Louis is a bit bitter about letting go their penthouse, they have so many good memories there...

In the meantime they get to know Tilly and Alfie more and more. The couple have four more meetings in the agency before getting to spend the day out, just the four of them.

They go to the Natural History Museum and at first it seems like a great idea; Harry bought Alfie a baby buggy and the three-month-old seemed to enjoy it, fast falling asleep inside it; they have enough snacks to feed a football team and Tilly is jumping excited with the perspective of seeing big scary dinosaurs.

It turns out they were really scary. She refuses to walk into to gallery, peeking from the door all the bones and teeth and immediately hiding behind Harry's legs. Louis laughs because she's adorable, but then he notices Harry panicking as if his whole life is flashing before his eyes.

They walk back to the car before Louis says anything:

“Haz, we will improvise, yeah?” Harry just nods, sinking on the passenger seat like a deflated balloon. “Think of this as a test, that's what happens when you go out with kids. Sometimes things don't come out as planned.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you're right, I should... get a grip.”

Louis leans in and kisses Harry on the lips, you know, very naturally and casual. They do that all the time, he doesn't even realise he's doing it to be honest. But there's a gasp from the backseat and... fuck.

“Louis!” Harry exclaims blushing, slapping his arm like a school girl even though he corresponded. Harry turns around to check on Tilly, who's strapped to her chair pop eyed. “Hm... you're alright there?”

She's biting on her thumbnail and at first Harry thinks she's shy because of the kiss, but then she gives him a cheeky smile and starts singing: “Harry and Louis sitting in a three. K – I – S – S – S – S...”

Harry bursts in a laugh, seeming to relax again, and Louis feels like his heart could burst on his chest too. He loves Harry so much...

When they're finally on the road again, deciding to play safe and just go to an activity centre, Harry and Louis discuss how they're going to explain their relationship for the kids.

They did a lot of talk about that and got plenty orientation during the first stages of the adoption process, but now that the kiss incident just happened they feel the weight of what they are getting into. Well, Louis feels.

“As Susan said, we should try to be as natural about it as possible” Harry whispers, Tilly fully awake on the backseat even after a whole afternoon jumping in bouncing castles and playing in the ball pit. “I mean, it shouldn't be a big deal.”

“Well, I was not the one to slap me in the arm...” Louis says not tearing his eyes of the road, but Harry still can tell he's raising his eyebrows sassy.

“I was caught out of guard” he tries to explain shrugging and smiling. “Sorry about that.” Louis just hums with a half smile of his own painted on his face and he's about to give Harry's thigh a reassuring squeeze when Tilly spills her Capri Sun.

-

It's the middle of a snowy February when the kids spend their first night with them. Since Harry and Louis are practically living for this adoption, they were visiting Tilly and Alfie almost daily, so the overnight stay was just a natural next step, really.

Their new home is still a mess, boxes everywhere to be open, furniture wrapped in bubble wrap and some rooms aren't even painted yet. Tilly has a lot of fun with Louis; he pushes her around the house inside one of the cardboard boxes until Harry scolds them for scratching the wooden floor.

She's distracted with the bubble wrap while Louis feeds the baby and Harry prepares dinner when realisation hits Louis. They aren't doing anything out of ordinary but... they look like a family, don’t they?

He thought he would have a choir of angels singing and a light coming from the sky when he'd finally feel like they were a proper family but no, it is just during a mundane cold Wednesday evening. Yet, he feels in seventh heaven the same way.

That is the first time he truly believes they can do it. He feels truly fulfilled, blessed in a way that he never imagined he could. He thought Harry was enough but... this is somehow even better.

Besides, the wonders that this whole fatherhood thing is doing to Harry are priceless. He wakes up in high spirits everyday and when they're with the children he's just thrilled, smiling so much that Louis is sure his cheeks must hurt at the end of the day.

He shares every small thing he learns about them with Louis _'Tilly almost knows the ABC's by heart. She's stuck on Q.'_ or _'Alfie is ticklish on his tummy just like you'_ or _'They both have crooked middle toes, it's so weird and cute'_ and Louis is never tired of hearing them. There's nothing in the world better than Harry being happy.

Dinner time is busy, with Tilly refusing to eat her veggies and Alfie crying his lungs out for no apparent reason. When they are finally bathed and set to sleep on their still plain room Louis is sighing relieved. And hungry and jittery, with his head buzzing a bit.

Harry hugs him from behind, kissing his neck and murmuring “Thank you, thank you, thank you” against his skin and Louis wants him to stop because it's not like he's doing Harry a favour.

Yes, he's scared to death and still unsure about his capacity of raising children, but tonight he felt for the first time they could do it. And Harry was there by his side to help him, right?

So Louis turns around and shuts him up with a deep kiss, stumbling over the house between tins of paint and the baby buggy, and then they are falling into bed, panting between kisses and giving each other messy handjobs.

-

As winter rolls out they manage to settle down on the new house. Louis runs errands to get Tilly's room fixed – she asked for a _horsey room_ , Lord knows what that meant, but pouted when Harry showed her a too pink room, so they toned down a bit with some grey and white. Alfie has a space themed room and he seems to be fascinated with the luminous mobile, so at least it's a half win.

The preparation is good to keep Louis busy, because as much as he sometimes feel really hopeful about future, there are other times that... It's just a tiny voice in his head, you know? Like a little devil on his shoulder telling him he will fail, remembering him he's from a broking home, what does he know about being a father?

Which is stupid, he _knows_ it is, but he can't stop it unless he's busy, overflowed with things to do. So he does his best to stay active, occupying his mind until it's bedtime and only letting the voice torment him in the darkness of his bedroom because Harry is there to kiss it away.

The kids gradually stay over for more and more nights, and Harry and Louis have weekly meetings with Susan during this whole time. Louis doesn't tell her or the psychologist working along with Susan about all his fears. Or about how he just feels wired all the time. Of course he doesn't.

He doesn't tell Harry neither, not after their tragic first talk on bed. And also because Harry's dealing with so much already, making sure everything is at least perfect.

So yeah, Louis sucks it up and tries to ignore his nerves, even though sometimes he has to shut himself in the bathroom when things get too much.

(There was this time Harry went to the deli really quick to grab bread and milk and left Louis alone with the kids for the first time. When he was back, half an hour later, Tilly was throwing a tantrum because she wanted sweets and Alfie's got sick all over their clothes. Harry laughed it off, but that day Louis went to bed feeling really down).

Louis only tells Zayn about his feelings, in one night when they go grab a pint, just the two of them:

“Well, you had nine months to get used to the idea. You know, that's plenty of time to freak out before you were holding a baby in your arms.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean, mate” Zayn agrees tapping him on the shoulder. “Besides, you got two kids at once, it must be hard. Two different ages...”

“Yeah... I'm not complaining, though” Louis says having a sip of his Stella. “Harry is amazing, supportive as fuck.”

Zayn nods, fumbling with his beer coaster because as much as they're used to have these heart to heart conversations they still get a tad awkward. Although Zayn somehow always manages to be comforting, so calm that his energy tends to tone Louis down.

“And you know how long it's been since Harry and I had sex?” Louis tries to joke and lighten the mood, but just ends up coming off as whiny. God, he should shut up.

“You two?” Zayn asks in disbelieve. Let's say Harry and Louis used to have lots of stamina when they were still in the band. “I thought it was more something... with women, you know? Post partum shit.”

“I thought so too!” Louis yells, excited that someone finally understands him. “I mean,” he tries to fix when he realises he's been shouting, “he never wants when the kids are around because Tilly would maybe walk into us. And then he's got this crazy schedule now, because he's back helping to produce that American album he kinda dropped in January and... I'm sorry, I'm unloading everything over you. Sorry.”

“Don't be an idiot, I don't mind. Wanker.” They stay in peaceful silence for a while, just sipping their pints, until Zayn brings the subject back up. “But wait, are they living with you?”

“Not yet.”

Zayn looks at him cocking his head: “And you're unsure about the whole... adoption thing?” he asks cautious.

“No!” Louis exclaims because it's not true at all. It isn't. “No, no, no.”

“Because, you know,” Zayn says raising his eyebrows to make his point, “if you're feeling unsure, you better call it off as soon as possible. Or talk to your social worker, I don't know...” He reaches for his pocket and fishes a cigarette, and Louis waits while he lights it up before saying:

“I'd never do that. Call it off.”

He finishes his pint wincing, but not because the beer has gone warm. More because he feels like a liar saying what he just said when the truth is: he fantasised about running away a couple of times. It was nothing like saying he'd buy cigarettes and never coming back, no.

It was just... fantasising about getting on his car and hitting the road somewhere, with not even a single compromise on his book. He just misses the freedom from before they started the adoption process. He misses how relaxed he used to be before and hates the edgy worrisome state that he constantly finds himself now.

It was nothing too concrete, he didn't even took it into much consideration because, as he said, he'd never _actually_ do that. It's only an escape from reality when everything is too much. He just likes to imagine the excitement of doing something reckless, you know?

But it's stupid, ridiculous. The kids are counting on him.

Tilly and Alfie had so many traumatizing experiences already, and they're only at the beginning of their lives. And Harry doesn't deserve that. “Harry is on cloud nine, it'd be just ruthless...” he tells Zayn the last part.

But his friend doesn't help when he replies: “Louis. You have to think about yourself too.”

Louis needs this conversation to be over, that's what he needs. He doesn't want to think too much about it, really. He doesn't even know why he brought this up. He has decided to just let things happen and go with the flow because having kids was on their plans before they were twenty. He _wants_ this. “I want this, trust me. I think... I think I already love them.”

“Well, you know I'll be always here to back you up, yeah? Partners in crime” Zayn finishes with a faint smile, chugging down his drink too. Louis is glad this is over because his guts can't stop revolving around.

Something is creeping under his skin for the rest of the week. Louis can't even sit still sometimes and he's even more jumpy than usual. Thoughts of driving off into the sunset start to form clear in his brain, but then he also starts to feel sick about himself for being such a quitter.

Physically sick too, as if he swallowed a bowling ball. As time passes his jaw and neck hurt like a bitch and Harry notices and constantly asks about his mood swings, but Louis laughs it off and distracts him with children talk.

( _'We should put Tilly in ballet classes'_ he said conversationally one day when Harry noticed his fingers were shaking and asked why. _'Alfie will start eating solids soon, yeah?'_ Louis asked just yesterday, when Harry inquired why he took so long in the loo).

He feels shitty about lying to Harry, which only aggravates how tense he feels. It's like a vortex of fucked up things and lies. Some days he even gets angry because can't Harry see how... weird he's acting? _'He should, I'm his partner, for Gods sake!'_

But most of the times Louis himself tries to ignore everything he's feeling because... it'll be over, right? He'll get used to having kids and to this change, hopefully soon. And some days are ok.

Some days, especially when the kids are around – when he's making Play Doh necklaces to Tilly or when Alfie starts to giggle when Louis blows raspberries on his tummy – things feel ok. It's ironic, but as much the adoption is causing all this anxiety on Louis, the best thing to clear out his mind are his children.

At the end of March Susan announces they seem ready to definitively take the children in. Well, they still have to wait at least ten weeks to apply to the courts for the final adoption order, but it's just a matter of waiting.

Which is all they seem to do nowadays. Wait.

Louis can't wait until he gets used to the idea that he's a father now.

-

Louis hates getting up in the middle of the night. Hates. It.

If there was one thing people asked him that he hated about fatherhood he'd say “getting up in the middle of the night”. But it's unfair to let Harry do it all the time, especially when his sleep pattern just went back to normal now that he finished producing the album.

So, even though Louis decides to finally take over the Rovers and his management company back from when he left them last year, he still gets up at three to give Alfie his bottle. (He'll never admit that it totally pays off when Alfie falls asleep peacefully in his arms because he has a reputation to uphold).

In the mornings he drives Tilly to the crèche before heading to his office. Harry picks her up at noon and minds the kids during the afternoons, until Louis is back at five.

He gets to play with them while Harry cooks dinner, then plays a bit more after, until is bedtime. Then, when they are finally tucked in, Harry and Louis will catch up a bit watching the news or a movie with an occasional bottle of wine.

As days become warmer they get into this routine very naturally, and it seems to work well at first. Some days are hard, of course. They're still figuring how to deal with Tilly's tantrums and Alfie gave them a hard couple of weeks transitioning to solid food.

Yes, it's quite stressful. Louis is maybe drinking too much before going to bed. There are days when he goes out to buy nappies and intently takes long roads or fiddles for more than necessary in Tesco because it's peaceful there and bloody Peppa Pig is not full blasting in the background.

Harry is so busy some days that they don't even see each other and their sex life decreased to the lowest rate in history – they fall asleep snogging more than once and quick shower sex is their standard now. And even when they are together Harry is with the kids, or watching the kids, or talking about the kids, or thinking about the kids.

They go out on a failed date one night but Harry's the whole time concerned about them and what they might be doing _“What if the nanny falls asleep and Alfie chokes on his cot? Or if Tilly climbs the fridge again? Jesus, it can fall over her!”_. So they skip dessert and rush back home, only to find the two of them sleeping peacefully like a pair of angels.

Besides all of that Louis becomes calmer and loosens it up when he realises things are going to be ok and he's probably not dropping any baby, nor forgetting anyone in school or that he won't traumatize them for the rest of their lives. Or maybe he's just... resigned. You now, calm in the surface, like the sea.

By May Tilly starts calling them dads. Well, first they have to figure out what they are being called to avoid confusion. Obviously Tilly is the one to have the final word:

“Daddy Harry is daddy and Daddy Louis is papa” she announces at the dinner table on a weekday. She looks particularly adorable that night – her hair is braided like Louis did this morning for crèche and she's wearing a floral dress Harry picked up for her at Debenhams. Louis is absolutely in love with her.

“Why can't I be daddy?” he asks pouting because he loves seeing her struggle making up excuses.

“Cause papa is cooler” she says dismissively, popping a piece of carrot into her mouth.

“Heeey” Harry protests, kicking Louis under the table when he starts to laugh out loud. “I'm a cool lad too.”

“I knooow” she says dragging the word the cutest way, “but dadd- papa is _cooler_.”

“Well, I think that settles it. T is the expert in coolness, aren't you?” She nods happily, melting under Louis attention just like Harry does.

God, Louis loves her so much, he thinks watching her miss a spoonful of pasta and mess her chin with sauce. When he finally drag his gaze away from her, Harry is watching them with the most fond expression ever. That night, Louis doesn't dream about hitting the road.

-

It's the beginning of June when they reach the ten weeks mark. They are having a really stressful week; the nanny called in sick, but apparently not on time because right on the next day Alfie has a cold too. On top of that, Tilly is off of crèche because it's Summer Holidays, which means things are chaotic at their home.

Louis has to drive all the way from London to Doncaster to solve some things after the Rovers loses five matches in a row. It's an odd trip. He doesn't want to leave Harry alone to deal with a sick baby by himself for the first time and everything just seems... out of place.

Louis realises this is the first time he's away from the kids. He misses them like crazy while having a late, lonely and quiet supper in the hotel he's staying.

When he goes to his mum's on the next day he's glad that everyone is curious about Tilly and Alfie because he can't shut up about them, showing pictures on his phone of his kids doing mundane boring stuff (to think he had swore to himself he'd never be _that_ kind of dad...):

“This is one is from when Harry was bathing Alfie and he peed on his hands. Look at their faces!” “This day we went to a Jazz festival in Hyde Park and before the concerts Tilly started to chase these geese and scare them away.”

Doris asks when Tilly will be around so they can play with her new doll house and Louis promises her a visit soon. Jay tells him they look to have grown since she visited in April. It's only when they sit down to have tea in the living room that she tells him she's a bit concerned:

“Are you having enough sleep?”

He has a sip of his cuppa before answering: “Not as much as before, but yeah.”

“You look... tired” Jay says watching him from her chair. “Stressed, I don't know. Maybe I'm just...”

“What, mum?”

She waves it off, eyes focusing on the golf competition on the telly that Dan is watching. “It's silly, forget it. How are things with Harry?”

“Brilliant” he lies. Jay's not impressed with the answer, so after a few seconds he admits: “We are struggling a bit but it's normal, right?”

“I suppose” Jay shrugs, drinking her tea as well.

“Are you used to the idea of being a father now?” Dan asks.

“I... I think so” he answers, and his mum perks up at that even though Louis doesn't know what he said to call her attention and give himself away.

“Louis” she hisses in that warning tone of hers, as if she can read right through you but still wants you to confess what's going on on your head.

He sighs. “It's juts that sometimes it feels like we are... pretending, you know? Pretending to be adults. Playing house. And it's... it's so overwhelming some days that I daydream about having a break, running away and... it's stupid. Forget I said it.”

“Louis” Jay calls, but Louis is watching intently his hands on his lap, eyes prickling because he didn't mean to say all of this out loud, with Dan there and everything. “Louis,” Jay calls again, but this time he feels the sofa sinking by his left and then his mum's warm hand is on his. “You're not your father. Never forget that, ok?”

-

Everything blows up on a Sunday.

Things are running smoothly until noon. They wake up at 8, which is reasonably late if you have a seven-month-old baby. Harry makes pancakes while Louis lays on the sofa and let Tilly bounce on top of him, CBeebies blasting on the background as usual.

“Smelling good, sweetheart” Louis shouts from the living room at some point.

They eat the pancakes in relative peace until Alfie starts to cry when they are nearly finished. It's an excuse to finally changing from their pyjamas, really. After that, they spend the rest of the morning playing on the backyard.

Louis kicks the ball with Tilly for a while, but she never plays anything for longer than twenty minutes, so they try to entertain her with all sorts of things. She gets into an argument to put sun lotion on when the sun gets too hot and Louis is not doing anything specifically, just watching as Harry rubs the white off of her grumpy face, when he feels _that feel_ again.

It's something tingling on him, like a whole ant colony crawling under his skin, and it comes out of the blue. Louis is not anticipating anything, and he was actually feeling quite well... until he's not. He gets more and more tense as he realises he's losing control, which is laughably ironic.

Then, he starts focusing on trying to not get anxious, completely zoning out. He's concentrated on his body, too aware of his restless leg bouncing up and down and of his jaw clenched tight until it physically hurts, not paying attention to much else.

“Papa!” Tilly calls but he doesn't listen. “PAPA!” she yells, and Louis is so jumpy that he startles on his chair and nearly falls.

“Sorry, T. What is it?”

“I'm hungry.”

“Wrong dad, love” Louis jokes, ignoring how his stomach still weights tons inside of him. Harry chuckles and then adds:

“We need you to go to the deli... Were you listening to what we were saying?”

“Sorry I was... distracted.” Harry gives him a weird look but before he gets the chance to ask anything Louis goes on. “But I'm all yours, what you lot want?”

Harry fumbles with Alfie sitting on his knees and then Tilly is there by his side too, grabbing his forearm to get his attention because she loves being his little assistant.

“Calm down you two, Genie Macaroni!” Harry scolds, coming off as plain affectionate. Louis feels a bit left out, like locked on his own head. It's stupid, but they seem so... far away. Louis is like a stranger watching the scene from outside.

“Ok,” Harry says when he finally settles Alfie and the little girl stops pinching his arm, “we need sweetcorn to put on the tuna sandwich cause we looove sweetcorn, don't we, Tilly?”

“Yes!” she shots excited.

“And maybe some more bread just to be sure. Cheese. Hm, if they have iceberg lettuce that'd be nice. What else?”

Louis nods vaguely, the shopping list passing by his brain while he doesn't register anything. He just holds onto the perspective of getting away from there because maybe it'll help and maybe he will stop feeling numb because it's so weird and such a bummer and he hates that inquietude and he doesn't want to lose his temper around his family or to worry Harry.

“Ice cream!” Tilly yells one more time, and when Louis' eyes gain focus again he immediately spots Harry eyeing him concerned.

“I don't remember that being on the list, young lady” Harry says regardless, and then whispers over her head: “Maybe some ice lollies” though he doesn't sound as humorous as he usually would.

Louis is already getting up, rushing out before Harry can start the interrogatory because Louis thinks he'll never get it. Not this time. He himself thinks it's unreasonable this... panic attack or whatever this is. There's no reason to worry Harry.

“Ok... I'll get the Rover, yeah? Be right back” Louis says even though he already knows he's lying.

As soon as he sits down in the stuffy car that has been sitting in the sun the whole morning Louis lets go all the air he didn't realise he was holding in his lungs.

It's not enough to calm him down because he still can't stop shivering. And it's strange because he shouldn't be shivering, the weather is so warm that sweat is literally running down on his tense neck. It's just a lot of mixed emotions and sensations and he wants them to stop but doesn't know how.

He may be going insane, this time for real. He tries not to think too much about all the weird things that are going on with his body and mind, grabbing the wheel until his knuckles are white. The tiny voice is back, a whisper pestering him, _'You're going mad, aren't you? Absolutely cray-cray. Are you leaving your family? You're just... a mess.'_

Louis only turns on the engine after having two more loud, deep breaths. So loud that they muffle the voice in his head. When he drives off, watching his house from the rearview mirror, he doesn't feel as relived as he thought he would.

-

“Anything else, sir?” the bored cashier asks as Louis throws ten tins of sweet corn and a box of ice lollies in a plastic bag. “That will be £ 6,50.”

“Can I... Can I have a box of Marlboro Lights?”

“Sure. £ 15,29.”

Louis mechanically pays with his credit card and then he's out of the bloody stuffy and crowded convenience shop.

The handle of the bag hurts his hand, the weight of the tins pulling the straps until they are cutting into Louis' palm, but he can't move beyond the slide doors. Clients pass by him, shooting him peeved looks, and a chav-ish boy even shouts _'Move out, prick!'_ but he doesn't.

He completely zones out from street noises and other people, everything sounding distant and muffled like lift music. The sun burns his shoulders and he can feel his scalp getting hot under the midday sun. And blood rushing on his tempers, his heart pumping rhythmically.

He feels so conscious about his body that he can't... move. It's terrible. Not knowing what to do next, not _wanting_ to do anything next.

“Is that the guy from One Direction?” he hears someone say, snapping out of his trance whenever he hears his band's name, even nowadays.

“I don't know. May be. What's _wrong_ with him?” a woman says to the man by her side, and a small crowd is gathering around him now. There are lots of pairs of eyes on Louis and they start to burn more than the sun on top of his head, so discomforting that he finally walks away to the car park.

It's quiet and unnerving inside the Rover. Louis knows he isn't going home, he knew it as soon as Harry said _'we need you to go...'_ but now that he's there, out in the world, free to do anything, he doesn't know what that would be.

So he just drives. It's midday and his dream about driving into the sunset is kinda spoiled, but he keeps going. He just takes small roads, speeding when there's no car in sigh. He feels giddy passing by suburb houses that look very much like his, but will becoming sparse on green fields as he drives off of town.

After some time of taking turns, changing gears and stepping pedals, he starts to gradually unwind. Louis doesn't know for sure where he's going, but he keeps driving until the fuel gauge is dangerously low. In fact, he doesn't stop until the diesel is over and the car stops working.

Louis is somewhere around Reading, he can tell from the last sign he read some miles ago. He tries to check the time on his phone but the battery is dead. Then he turns on the radio and waits until the someone says it's 03h36 PM. Fuck.

Harry must be worrying by now, Louis left more than two hours ago. Damn, he probably called and Louis phone is off. Guilt washes over him and with trembling hands he unwraps the cigarette box and lights one up. God, he's pathetic.

He gets out of the car and takes a long drag, looking over the boring never ending fields. Louis considers going back home and stop this nonsense, that's what he should do. He still have time to fix it and Harry won't really question his delay if he says he ran out of diesel – which is partially the truth.

But just the thought of facing him again, and the kids, and... and of going back to the suffocating mansion... just the thought is enough to make Louis nauseous. As much as he wants, he really wants to be reasonable, he can't bring himself back to reality. It's scary and frustrating.

He finishes the fag but his hands are trembling even more now, maybe is the nicotine. Or his nerves. Or guilt. Or fucking everything at the same time. Louis doesn't even care at this point, just wants it to be over. He climbs back the car and tries to turn the engine on, which of course doesn't work.

There's no living soul, no one drove by while he was smoking, and the nearest house looks empty. He locks up the car and starts walking down the road, not even sure if he really wants to find a petrol station or not.

The sun is scalding, the asphalt so hot that it's probably melting the rubber sole of his shoes and sweat is dripping on his nape, soaking up his shirt, but it's somehow comforting. This is probably the first time he feels human since the attack stroke this morning. It's almost like an expurgation, a cleansing.

Which makes Louis remember that stupid cleansing swim he and Harry took in the Caribbean sea at the beginning of the year. The memory sounds too long ago, too sweet and perfect in his brain. So idealized that Louis can't guarantee now that that holiday even happened; maybe it's another fantasy just like this driving off into the sunset rubbish.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry for the delay but these past weeks the fandom have been so busy with the amount of promo the boys are (finally!) doing. But here it is, I hope you enjoy! Comments are much appreciated :)
> 
> I made this fic [a mixtape on 8tracks](http://8tracks.com/amandamoraisa/you-promised-forever) and if you fancy a broken heart you should definitely give it a listen.

Louis was never more terrified in his life than when he finally pulls over at his house – not even before his X Factor audition or before the coming out statement was published, – because now he can lose _so much_. He can lose Harry, and that's the same as losing everything. Just the thought makes him shiver from head to toe. He can't even imagine his life without him.

It's already dark, and from the outside he can see that all the lights are on, which is odd since Harry is an environment freak or whatever. There's a sad puddle of melted ice cream on the Rover's passenger seat and the groceries are just a mess at this point.

Louis' stomach is revolving around itself as he puts the key in the lock and when he opens the door he can't even acknowledge Harry running in his direction before the man is hugging Louis tight. Louis doesn't let the sudden relief he feels inside of Harry's arms fool him; they will have an ugly argument in the next minutes, that's for sure.

“Jesus, Louis” he says in rush, not letting go. “Where have you been? Are you hurt?” Harry asks cupping Louis face desperate and it's so heartbreaking that Louis only manages to shake his head. “I... God, where _were_ you? What happened? I was so worried!”

Louis doesn't even know where to begin and Harry is watching him expectantly, holding him by the shoulders so eager that hurts, probably to make sure Louis will never leave his side again. He's so distressed that Louis feels like an absolute arse.

“Were you in an accident? I started calling all our friends and hospitals...”

“No! No, I wasn't. I'm- I'm fine.”

“Louis, tell me! You're worrying me.”

“I'm sorry, Harry” he spurts, and to his horror he starts shedding guilty tears. It's so ridiculous that Louis is angry with himself. Harry is in shock, watching him static, brows furred in confusion. Louis buries his face on his hands to hide his crying. He sniffs, trying to stop, and only when he calms down, he confesses in an ashamed murmur: “I ran away.”

The silence that falls over them is horrifying. Louis can't really see Harry's reaction because he still has his hands on his face, but Harry's no longer touching him and it's silent for a long frightening time. Louis wants to run away again because when Harry says something, it hits Louis like a sword slash:

“What... What the fuck are you saying?” he asks, absolutely stunned and hurt.

Louis sighs, trying to work up the courage to face Harry, but Harry keeps going, and he sounds livid: “What do you mean by ran away? From what?”

Louis buries his fingertips on his eye-sockets, hard, until he sees stars. The quiet darkness behind his eyelids is not relieving, it's daunting. When he looks up he's momentarily blind, and only when his eyes can focus on Harry, taking in his bloodshot eyes and his distraught state, only then Louis speaks up:

“I don't know.”

Harry stares back at him in disbelief, mouth slack and an outraged expression. It hurts so much that Louis wants to cover his face again. Harry is looking at him like he's a stranger and that's the worst thing that could ever happen to Louis.

He wipes off the last tears and that seems to be what triggers Harry because then he just lets out a string of questions:

“You don't _know_? So what? You just decided to drive away without telling me? What were you _thinking_? Were you abandoning our kids? Have you even thought about them for a second? Where were you going? Are you... out of mind?!”

“No, no, no... NO!” Louis shouts, frustrated and infuriated with the last question. He's not crazy. He's not. “God damn it, Harry shut up!”

“Do you have any idea of... the gravity of this?” he asks gesticulating exaggerated and so, so angry. “You vanished for _hours_ , out of the blue.”

“It fucking wasn't out of the blue! It wasn't!” Louis hisses, now furious as well because Harry is an idiot for not noticing how weird he's been acting. He was so caught up with the kids, so busy trying to make them the fucking perfect exemplar gay family, that he couldn't see anything else. “I was feeling pressured. I...”

“ _Pressured?_ ” Harry interrupts baffled, eyes popping out so truly shocked that Louis feels stupid for blaming on Harry. The poor thing doesn't have a clue, does he?

“I'm having a hard time dealing with all the changes,” Louis confesses, feeling hot and ashamed under Harry's judging look, finally saying what he's been holding back for so long. “It's so... overwhelming. So fucking terrifying and there's so much expectation and...”

“What are you even saying? Why are you only telling me this now?” Harry spurts resentful and sour.

The thing is, Louis can't explain. Saying _'I thought you wouldn't understand me'_ already sounds like rubbish and egoistical on his brain, he can't say that out loud. Harry would hate him.

God, it's this really happening? Are they really having the worst argument in history, ever? Is this leading to a _divorce_? It can't be true, they are... fireproof. They are going to be married forever, aren't they? They deserve a happy ending after everything they've been through. And the kids...

“Where are the kids?” Louis asks in a small voice, just a soft guilty whisper, and it's the first time something he says hits Harry hard. He looks at Louis appalled, as if he's not believing Louis has the nerves to talk about them.

“They're fine, why? Now you care about them?”

“Harry, you're being stupid. I always cared about them...”

“Oh, go fuck yourself. _I'm_ being stupid?” Harry shouts. “Why didn't you tell me you were feeling like this the whole time, uh?”

“Because.... Because when I told you that first time on bed, that I thought we weren't prepared, you got so upset.” Harry looks at him outraged, like he can't believe he's being blamed for what's happening now.

And it's not like Louis blames him, not for this, but his head is just such a mess, he can't even form cohesive thoughts. “I didn't want to... disappoint you” Louis cries. “We talked about having children since forever, I couldn't back off now!”

There's another excruciating silence. Their shouts seem to echo around the house and Louis is nauseated. This is a nightmare, he can't even believe... They were supposed to be happy! They struggled so much, fought for so many things, overcame so many obstacles. Why can't they be happily ever after?

“You know what I don't get?” Harry murmurs, so low and sombre that it makes Louis' blood freezes. “How you could hide this from me for so long. How you let this drag for months... without trusting me. We made a _vow_ , Louis. For better or for worst. You promised forever.”

“Harry, please” he begs, almost like a scorn. He can't believe Harry is talking about vows. Louis can't let their discussion take this direction, they can't talk about breaking promises, he will not let this happen. He saw that happening once at his own house.

It's the same old petrifying feeling. It's like when you're heading over to the highest point of a rollercoaster, suspended with expectation, until gravity pulls you down and your stomach is floating as if it's loose inside of yourself and you can only scream before falling on your face on the ground.

“I'd have understood you. I swear I would” Harry says, sounding desperate and hurt again, and it's so much worst than when he's yelling angry. Louis wants Harry to be angry because he's still furious himself. He wants to shout in frustration. “I wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want to. Especially have kids, that's such a... massively important decision” Harry says, so calm and fucking nice and resilient that Louis needs to yell.

Louis can't let the discussion end on this note. No, he refuses. It's always like this. Harry wins when they have arguments because he's the one to fucking back down and forgive Louis. He's always the nice guy, and Louis is the one who loses his temper. But Harry's not getting away with it this time. Not when Louis was the one struggling with so many problems.

Then, ironically, just like on the script, Louis is red faced, screaming:

“Well, I'm sorry if I tried to protect you! I thought I'd get used to it, that I was just overreacting, even when I had to lock myself in the bathroom because I couldn't breathe. Even when I couldn't stop shaking for no apparent reason, even when I couldn't concentrate on anything, when I had to force out a laugh while I was feeling just... fucking empty inside, you know? You know what's this? Have you ever felt this way? Because frankly, I think I'm just going insane, I don't even know what to do.”

Harry literally take two steps back and holds the nearest wall. His nostrils flare and he's breathing loud, taking in everything Louis just admitted. He looks confused and pitiful, and that's _exactly_ why Louis couldn't tell Harry.

He wouldn't understand. He would overreact and pity Louis, look at him just like he's doing right now. With this same demeaning look, as if he doesn't even know this mad man that is screaming at his perfect home with recycling bins and lavender smell and shit.

“Louis...” he mutters soft, a hand palmed on his chest and glassy eyes the size of the moon. “I didn't know you were feeling...”

“N-no” Louis chokes up. “Don't you _dare_ pity me. I was a massive prick for not telling you, ok? Don't fucking Mother Teresa me now.” Harry eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You're too good, I get it.”

Harry groans frustrated. “Louis, how many times did we have this argument? I'm not... playing the victim.”

The energy in the room dies down and Louis refuses to answer because Harry's right, they had this argument over and over again. Louis rubs the stubble on his chin and he's just so, so tired, as if he's been carrying a weight for too long and he finally took it off of his shoulders and now he could sleep for days.

He lets his eyes drag around the house, spotting all the toys scattered on the floor, the television on on Coronation Street, the reminiscence of dinner on the kitchen counter... everything so familiar. He can't let this go, he loves everything about his life at the moment, that's why he was bearing with all the shit he's been feeling.

He studies Harry for the first time since he came back home: bare feet, cheeks burnt because of the sun bath this morning, hair in an absolute state of disarray and fear and disappointment in his eyes as he stares back at his crazy husband. Louis can't deal with that, not now. They need to cool off and Harry's not helping no matter what he does.

“I- I think I need some time” Louis spurts without even thinking. But then again, it makes perfect sense, they should unwind in separated places.

“What?!” Harry asks as if he's caught out of guard, slack jaw.

Louis looks at him and God, he still loves Harry so much. “Do you mind if I sleep at the penthouse tonight?” he asks, almost as if he's begging for permission.

“Yes, I do” Harry says, screeches, sounding desperate again. “We have a lot of things to talk, this doesn't even scratch the surface” he says holding Louis forearm in a thigh grip.

Louis closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, as if he's dealing with a stubborn child. He can see a flash of rage in Harry's pupils when they lock eyes again. “I'm too tired to have a proper...”

“No!” Harry roars, tears spilling from his eyes now as he holds Louis so hard and demanding that hurts. “Don't leave.”

“Let go of my arm” Louis whines trying to pull away from Harry's grip, but his long fingers don't let Louis go. Louis huffs struggling with all of his force, furious and humiliated, until Harry gives up.

There's tension in the air as they stare at each other again and Louis is so pissed but at the same time so terrified. Harry's eyes are bloodshot and on fire, like something is broken inside of him.

He never looked at Louis like this, with so much... hate. This whole discussion sounds too definitive. They are both breathing loud and Louis jaw is so thigh that it's painful. He glances at Harry hands and notices his husband shaking. Louis wants to hug him. Louis wants to make this stop, he really does, but they still don't move or say anything.

Louis feels a lump on his throat but he doesn't even attempt to swallow it. He deserves the pain. Louis grabs a hold of his own hair, pulling it until his scalp hurts, until the pain awakes him and gives him power to start moving again. As soon as he turns his back to Harry, though, Harry goes for the final blow:

“You're walking away just like your father.”

Louis sees red. It doesn't matter how upset Harry is, saying that is just... mean and low. Louis was walking away still convinced that he himself was just scum, and that he didn't deserve Harry. But he saying that Louis was acting like his father was just plain cruel. Ruthless, because Harry knows how this is a delicate subject to Louis.

He stomps possessed back to the front lobby, where Harry is standing terrified, as if he already regrets what he said. Louis nails a finger on Harry's chest until he can feel the bones of his ribcage under flesh.

“I am not him” he spits, cutting and so intimidating that Harry stutters when he says back:

“Sto- Stop acting like a bastard, then” and to sound at least a little bit threatening too he bats away Louis finger.

“Oh, really?” Louis hisses sarcastic, eyebrows raising almost till his hairline. “Bastard? You wanna go this low?”

“That...” Harry says deflating. “That was not what I meant.”

Harry looks so... stupid and lost and afraid that it makes Louis even angrier. “You know what, Harry? Fuck you!” he shouts sticking a finger on Harry's chest again, punctuating every sentence with a stab of his index.

“I was dealing with all this fucked up shit in my head and having no sleep, covered in children's piss and puke all the fucking time, without complaining or whining and you're pissed because I didn't fucking tell you? Well, grow up, Harry! I did all of this because of you! You're a blind, selfish fucker.”

He turns his back again and rushes upstairs, grabbing a backpack on the closet and throwing whatever piece of clothe he sees in front of him. He goes to the bathroom to grab his toothbrush but stops abruptly when he sees his reflection in the mirror.

This man... he doesn't even recognize this old decrepit insane man staring back at him. He's a mess. Louis gets sick in his stomach when he spots his toothbrush next to Harry's, their embroidered towels, Harry's aftershave... all the perfect little things that he's throwing away because the truth is: Harry is right. He's a lying bastard. A quitter.

Louis snaps out of it when he hears his husband climbing up the stairs, but he doesn't want to look at Harry anymore. Not tonight. So Louis ignores Harry as he stands in the doorway pleading “Please, let's talk”, eyes frantic and popped out on his face, and runs away from the house for the second time that day. Just like his father did thirty years ago.

-

The flat is terribly empty and chilly. There's no food, no sheets on the mattresses, or any sign that someone once lived there. It's like Harry and Louis never existed there, even though just a few months ago they were happily hosting a dinner party to celebrate Christmas and his birthday.

Now it's just a desolated cold palace in a skyscraper in London. Louis is so spent, so drained of any feeling or will, that he can't even hate himself, not now. He's glad the doorman was discreet and hasn't said anything when he saw Louis back by himself.

Louis turns on the heating and all the lights, undressing on his way to the showers in the masters suit. Then, he lets the boiling water fall on his shoulders until he's numb and all he can see is steam. He cries under the stream of the shower, his sobs reverberating in the bathroom pathetically. He gets dry afterwards and climbs on bed under the heavy duvet.

He watches the ceiling for a long time as all the hurtful things he said to Harry and that his husband said back to him rack his brain non-stop, playing on repeat like a scratched CD. The room gets more and more warm, until he's sweating under the covers, but he can't make himself move.

His pillow is wet, and he knows it's not just because of his hair, and everything is bloody uncomfortable, but he doesn't have energy to do anything now besides crying. Louis doesn't know when he drifts off, but when he wakes up in the middle of the night, startled, he knows it's exactly 3PM. Time for Alfie's bottle.

Which leads to another session of crying. This time he falls asleep to the faces of Tilly and Alfie and wakes up from a nightmare at the crack of dawn. He can't remember the dream, it's just a hazy fear sensation of losing the children that somehow creeps under his skin and doesn't let him sleep anymore.

The whole day is just a vague unclear grey period of time, although it's still Summer outside. He goes out to buy a charger for his mobile and a box of cereal. When he turns on his phone there are 34 missed calls from Harry. Louis wants to punch himself in the face.

Zayn, Niall and Liam texted or called too. Louis is especially afraid to open Zayn's because for what he knows it could say a simple _'told ya'_. But his messages are actually so touching that Louis tears up as he reads them:

_'bro i'm so sorry for whats happening :( please talk to harry before u do something stupid, ur love is epic and you've been thru so much. we always rooted and supported u 2 cause u give us hope of whats true love. d_ _ont let all we fought for go to waste.'_

_'i wish ive done smth when u said those things to me in the pub but i'm always here for you ya know? love u, take care'_

Louis calls him immediately and they talk for a long time. Later that day Zayn stops by with Thai takeaway and they have dinner sitting on the ground of the empty living room, watching the city lighting up bellow them.

Zayn's presence is always comforting, but Louis still feels hollow inside. The whole day seems unreal, he can't believe this is happening. It doesn't feel like his life, it's so crazy. He's... detached from reality, he doesn't feel like himself.

He misses Harry and their house and their family like mad. Zayn tries to convince him to talk to Harry, saying they need to work this out the sooner the better, but Louis is adamant about waiting at least one more day.

“He's just confused and shocked” Zayn tells.

“Did you talk to him?”

“Yeah, he went to mine's to distract the kids, let them play with Ras and Amina. The girls were in the pool all day and they got all wrinkled. Like tiny little prunes.”

Louis is gutted. He misses that so much already. His eyes start to prickle with the thought of missing any other thing on his kids lives. He wants to be there for every silly small thing. He's so stupid.

“I'm sorry” Zayn says when he notices the look on Louis' face. “You know, Harry is more confused than anything” he says holding one of Louis shoulders, squeezing it encouraging as he goes on. “If you take too long to explain yourself he will come up with his own conclusions and... who knows what will come out of it?”

Louis nods but he's not even taking it into consideration. He can't talk to Harry right now, everything is still too raw and his own mind is so confused that he might make things worst trying to explain himself without sorting out the mess on his brain.

That night Louis doesn't sleep a wink, drifting in and out of nightmares and giving up when the sun rises. He stays in bed the whole day, only getting up to get a pizza he orders God knows what time and falling asleep after crying on the kitchen floor because the place is so fucking empty and soulless and there isn't even paper towel.

On Tuesday it's early in the morning, not even six, when he wakes up. And you know when you wake up disorientated, still unsure about your surroundings, especially when you are sleeping in a strange place?

For a moment, when Louis is still sleepy and groggy, the haziness lets him truly believe he's back to his old life. And it feels so real, so palpable, that when he blindly reaches out for Harry's side of the bed and finds it cold and untouched he recoils in disappointment, heartbroken.

He grabs his phone and calls him in a hasty, hanging up before Harry answers it.

“Oh God, what am I doing?” he grunts holding the mobile to his chest for his dear life, heavy breathing as he feels his heart pumping wild against the walls of his ribcage. He wonders if Harry is awake across the city right now as well.

-

It's unfair that Harry goes after him, but he does. It's still Tuesday but almost turning into Wednesday when he arrives at the flat.

Louis hasn't done much besides eating to survive and crying for the two days he's gone. It's always silence, broken only by his pathetic sobs, so obviously when he hears the front door of the penthouse opening he sprints like crazy, his heart racing on his chest with adrenaline.

It's almost midnight and at first Louis only sees a silhouette casting a shadow into the dark living room. Even though he knows who that silhouette belongs to, when Louis turns on a lamp and sees his husband on the doorway he still gasps, heart skipping not one, but ten beats.

Harry is standing there, just standing without moving. His presence is somehow terrifying because Louis imagines one hundred different scenarios that must have happened to make Harry go after him. His first thought is _the children_. Still, Louis feels washed out with relief because his husband is _there_.

Harry just stays there on the doorway, inert and mute. His whole face is scrunched up in a sour expression and Louis knows he's the one that caused that. Louis doesn't trust his legs to walk, they are shaking like mad, but he hears himself asking pathetic:

“What are you doing here?”

Harry winces, as if Louis voice stung him or something, and that's when Louis notices the dark circles under his eyes. He looks like shit.

“Harry?” Louis insists. “Did something happen? Are the children...?”

But Louis never gets to finish the question because Harry closes the distance between them and holds him in his arms and Louis forgets everything, forgets how to form words. Harry's familiar smell hits him like a punch aimed straight to his nose and Louis melts.

He feels his eyes starting to water, being filled with so many emotions, but holds back the tears the best he can because Harry is there. It's unreal. He came after Louis after all. Now they will work through this and everything will be ok, right?

But... it's weird. Harry looks distant and cold. Louis have never felt so small and unsure inside his embrace, but he doesn't dare moving. He doesn't know if he wants Harry to explain what he's doing there, his words will probably hurt. But his silence is somehow even more startling.

“H?” he calls one more time, still trying to understand what's going on. Harry looks down contemptuous at him and his eyes are soulless when he says:

“Shut up.” Then, he kisses Louis.

It isn't like any kiss they have had before. It's rushed, but not passionate. It's insipid, doesn't taste of much besides resent. Harry's vicious grip on his hips is possessive and rough and Louis feels put off, but he still lets himself be kissed because he missed his husband like a limb.

When Harry slips his tongue into Louis mouth, warm and so well known, it feels too... vulgar. Louis feels almost dirty when Harry pulls away with a disgusted grunt, as if he's cursing his own lack of self-control.

Louis can't stop thinking that he missed Harry, so much, but that this person in front of him, this broken and cold stranger, doesn't resemble much his husband.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks breathless and still so confused.

Harry takes a long look at him, measuring him up and down in a way that makes Louis feel exposed, as if he's uncomfortably naked. The tense silence stretches for so long that Louis wants to scream.

At what point of his life his loving husband, the person he promised to love and stay with forever, became so bitter towards him?

“I'm taking you out of my system” Harry mutters, and his low tone is so dark and truthful that Louis shivers with a sense of foreboding.

He's sure his jaw has dropped and that he's staring at Harry like an idiot, but this is probably the cruellest thing Harry has ever said to him. It's so, so painful. Being shot by a flaming arrow right through your heart doesn't even compare.

Louis' eyes are stinging and Harry's arms around him burn his skin. It's too odd and heartbreaking. Louis wants to detach from his embrace and have a proper conversation, which he has been avoiding because he's stupid.

But now he wants to stop this nonsense, to bring his Harry back, the loving, nice and warm man he knows. The man who invites him for a dance even though there's no music playing and that agrees to swim with mortal sea creatures with him.

Harry was there for fake relationships and when he lost grandpa Tomlinson. He moved in with Louis when he was a bit more than a child and he's the only person that Louis could ever imagine being in his life forever. So it's so ironic and fucked up that even though Harry is right there, finally with him again, now Louis realises that he lost his husband for good.

Harry drags him to their old bedroom but it doesn't feel right. Louis doesn't feel safe or loose, like he usually does when they hold hands.

His stomach bubbles with anxiety as Harry pushes him into the messy bed and straddles him, unceremoniously taking off his own shirt. Louis knows where this is leading to but he's still uncertain if he wants this.

He wants Harry, so, so much. But not this one.

When Louis reaches up to touch his husband's tattooed chest, Harry whacks his hand away. Louis must look at him quite frightened because then Harry hesitates, embarrassed of his own reaction. They stare at each other for a tense moment and Louis never felt more rejected, even though Harry is right there on top of him. Louis heart's pounding so loud that he's sure Harry can hear it.

But then he proceeds to take off Louis top too, burying his face on Louis neck and licking wet strips on collarbones. He gets up to undress his jeans shorts and Louis head is still spinning in confusion.

“Take off your trousers” Harry orders as he searches for something in the nightstand.

Louis feels nervous undressing, even though Harry doesn't even look at him. “Harry, we should talk first” he babbles, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence with something.

He dies a little bit when Harry ignores him, back still turned, looking for what he assumes is lube. Louis stares at his sad semi and he feels bad for still wanting this so much. He shouldn't want to have sex when there are so many unsolved things, but he's so weak.

Finally with a bottle on hands Harry crawls back into bed and he doesn't spare two looks at Louis before he's straddling him again, lining up their dicks. He slicks his hand with lube and holds their cocks together, almost too robotic.

Louis gasps but he can't really relax, still too torn, so he props up on his elbows and just watches Harry working them up serious and unfazed, as if he doesn't feel anything. As if they are only fucking, not making love.

“Harry” Louis whimpers unintended when he gives them a particularly harsh tug, pumping blood to their cocks in a slow, almost painful drag. “Har-” he chokes even louder when Harry smears with his thumb the precum forming on the tip of Louis dick.

Harry can barely look at Louis and he doesn't want to kiss Louis neither. Louis can tell because Harry lays down on top of him and, instead, sucks a vicious love bite on his shoulder. Louis doesn't mind, he will take anything Harry has to offer him, any scrape. But Harry's coldness hurt deep down.

He clasps a hand on Harry's strong back that he loves so much, encouraging and to steady himself, and it feels like a small victory finally being allowed to touch. When they're both hard, Harry abandons their cocks and he reaches his behind, preparing himself. His eyelashes flutter and he looks so, so beautiful. Painfully gorgeous. Louis wants to cry.

The prep doesn't take long and Louis can feel Harry working his fingers inside himself mercilessly. He lines up Louis' cock to his hole and they lock eyes for a second time. Harry stares back at Louis daring, eyes burning wildly in defiance. But... There's still desire there as well, Louis can't be imagining it.

Louis slides inside of him and it's a tense moment, Harry still refusing to give anything away. Louis is still, he can't make himself do anything besides stare upwards at Harry because it's unreal. He doesn't recognize them. They've been together for ten years but this is not familiar sex.

They are not like that. They're gentle with each other, they touch each other with reverence. They used to let their love show on the way their bodies connected. Irradiating from fingertips, brushing lightly on the other's skin. Irradiating from lips kissing chocked up groans and from warm blown pupils.

“Go on, move” Harry grunts above him, snapping him out of his reverie. He grinds Louis' hips earnest, stony-faced, and Louis is at a loss, already so emotionally exhausted. But he buckles up, slamming inside of him half-hearted. Louis needs this to be over because he feels absolutely drained and dirty.

Harry keeps grunting, not really groaning with pleasure like he usually does. It seems almost like he's relentlessly fucking something out of him, trying to expurgate what's corrupting him by being even more filthy. As if, like he said, he's taking Louis out of his system.

And, although Louis mind isn't really in this, he can feel the orgasm building up either way. Harry knows him so well, they are still so in sync besides everything, that he asks:

“There yet?”

“Almost” Louis blurts out of breath, out of life.

It takes three more pushes and Harry, cumming with a pained sigh on Louis belly, to make him cum too. There are three seconds of bliss when nothing matters, just Harry on top of him, the heat he's irradiating and they coming undone together.

Then reality hits hard and he's aware of how sticky and sweaty they are, aware of the heavy weight on his chest and the uncomfortable position. Harry sighs again, an excruciating sigh that sounds offensive in Louis ears, and then he's moving.

“Where are you going?” Louis asks in a panic when he realises Harry's leaving him. “Harry” he calls desperate when he disappears inside the bathroom.

“Home” Harry shouts from the other room, and Louis doesn't miss the way his voice cracks.

Louis is still high from his orgasm and he thinks he has never been this spent after sex. It's probably emotional, it has to be, because he wants to go after Harry so, so much, but can't make his shaky legs move a centimetre. He lays on bed void, just an empty shell of human being, because Harry may have taken him out of his system, but at the same time he took everything Louis always were.

He doesn't know how long Harry takes to come out of the bathroom, but when he's back he's completely dressed and his eyes are red rimmed. With a tug on his guts Louis realises Harry doesn't have a wet towel to clean him up. Harry always cleans him up.

“How are the kids?” he asks when Harry takes a step towards the door. He stops on the track and the look he shoots at Louis is murderous.

“Don't even- No” he grunts frustrated and angrier than Louis has ever seen him.

“Harry” Louis begs sitting down, so low that he doesn't know if his husband can hear him. Maybe just like his brain, his voice isn't working. “Please” he cries.

Harry stares at him like he's sick on his stomach. Like he's repulsed by Louis because Louis is fucking... scum. “I talked to Zayn” he says sombre. “Wasn't _that_ what you wanted?”

“What?” Louis asks baffled because he doesn't get it. What's Harry saying? He wants Harry back, yes, more than anything. But not like this.

Harry looks at him one last time, still disgusted, hissing: “Sex, Louis” before he storms out.

And just like that Harry's gone. Or is going. And Louis is just there, watching like the worthless piece of shit he is. A coward trapped on his own fears, engulfed by the sweaty dirty duvet and painful memories.

“Harry!” he calls, whimpers, like a hurt animal in the woods. He gets up, knees almost giving in under his own weight and the weight of all his burdens. When Louis finally manages to run, to fly after Harry through the dark empty flat after putting his pants on, the front door is already closed.

In a haste he opens it and sprints along the common hallway to the lifts, only to find it already going down, the numbers decreasing one by one as the energy leaves his body. Louis watches the red numbers on the panel until it reaches the ground, thinking that Harry's cum getting dry on his belly baptises their end.

-

Stalk your own home must be a new low. Well, sad goodbye sex is probably the worst thing Louis will ever experience in his life, but sitting in his car watching his family house from across the street is a second close.

To be fair, Harry and the kids aren't home and Louis is working up the courage to ring him and ask where they are and if he can meet them so they can talk.

But first Louis just has to... Calm down. And think exactly of what he wants to say, plan ahead, because he can't blow this up, it might be his last chance to speak to Harry. Well, not really, but it feels like that and Louis just wants to fix this mess so they can be a family again.

He has it all rehearsed in his head, all the apologies and promises. Something in these lines: _'Harry, love, I'm- I'm devastated. I miss you so much. All of you. That's all I can think about, how I want to be back home, but-. I don't know, somehow I couldn't bring myself to do it. I'm so... ashamed. I've been feeling so weird lately. So not myself. I know it will sound crazy, but it seems like I've never left. It feels like I wasn't even there at first. Not the Louis you knew.'_

He fiddles with his mobile in hands, watching the gates of his own house, thinking that is now or never. His palms are sweaty and it's raining outside, but still warm. He doesn't let himself wander for too long about how unbearable life without Harry would be because he never had a plan B, he never even thought he'd need one. They were always a sure thing. Until he blew it all up.

There's this knot on his guts as he unlocks the phone and he forgot to breathe by the time he finds Harry contact on the last calls, finger hovering unsure the name on the screen. God, he's so nervous. He loves Harry so much. So, so much.

The phone rings and rings and Harry doesn't pick it up, but now that Louis finally made up his mind, he's not giving up that easily. He redials shifting on the seat, watching as raindrops run down the car window much like tears.

His breath hitches when Harry barks out a “What?” from the other end of the line.

“H-Harry!” he chokes in thin air. “I...”

“Could you make it quick?” Harry asks, cutting and distant. “You're on speaker and I'm driving.”

“No, yeah, it's... it's fine. I can call you later” Louis says, imagining Harry's iPhone on its dock, the children on the backseat, and the empty passenger seat. “Are you coming home? I just-”

He stops rambling when there's a rustle on the end of line and then the distinctive sound of Alfie crying.

“Yes, I am. We were at the park and then I stopped at the supermarket....” Harry is saying over the sound of the baby, but he trails off when he realises that they are still 'not talking'. “Just go on, Louis,” he shouts when the crying intensifies. “Whatever you-”

“PAPA!” Tilly screeches suddenly in the background, when she hears Harry saying Louis' name, and it hits Louis like a car crash. “That's Papa? I wanna talk with Papa!”

“Not now, Tilly” Harry says, now over the sound of two children screaming their lungs out at the same time on the backseat.

“But I want to!” The girl yells and Louis can hear in her voice, even miles away, that there's a tantrum in sight. “Papa! Papa!”

“Harry, I'll turn off and we talk-” he says helpless, but Harry doesn't seem to hear, he must be busy trying to make Alfie stop, because the baby's cries are dying down. Louis realises with a tug on his chest that he wants to be there so badly. He doesn't care if it's a loud mess, he should be there to help, to be part of everything.

“TILLY!” Harry scolds in a roar that sounds scary even to Louis, “Sit back and put on the straps of your chair, right now!”

“NO! I WANT PAPA!”

“For fucks sake” Louis can hear Harry curse. He's starting to get worried because it sounds like a proper pandemonium has stricken the car and Harry is driving while trying to calm down the kids. It's too much to deal with.

“Hey, T” Louis says soft, trying to ease the disorder that seem to have broken down. “Can you be a good girl for me now? Daddy Harry is driving.”

“I was just helping. I was getting Alfie's dummy on the floor” she mumbles deflated, and Louis can imagine her biting the corner of her thumb like she usually does.

“It's ok, sweetheart, I-”

But Louis never gets to finish because there's the sound of brakes slamming, of tires screeching in the asphalt and of his whole world falling apart. And then, there's dead silence.

-

Louis must hold his phone against his ear for good ten seconds, trying to hear anything from the other end, but it's silent. He's trembling as he turns off the mobile and he can feel where his stomach dropped to his feet. There's this cold of realisation on his guts because they crashed. They crashed and it's Louis fault.

It only takes him a blink of an eye to reach for the keys on the ignition, turn them around and take off. He doesn't know where he's going or what he's going to do, but the thought of Harry's car crashed at the back of a lorry is enough to make him move. It's like someone turned on a switch on Louis' brain and he's not really thinking just... acting.

The supermarket they usually go to is ten minutes from there, and as Louis flies through Surrey's small roads his mind races much faster than the car he's driving. He can only think _“The children. The children. And Harry. Fuck, Harry. They-”_

He doesn't stop at a red light and the suburban houses pass by his window in a flash. Louis drives over a bridge in such a hurry that the wood creaks and the structure swings, but he's off of it before he knows. The supermarket is on the next corner, turning at High Street, but at the end of the road he spots some commotion. The traffic is stuck and no one moves even though the light is green. Louis abandons his car and as he runs down the street under the drizzle his heart pumps on his chest like crazy.

His knees almost give in when he finally sees the accident. First there's only a mass of people surrounding the car, but he doesn't even have to push through them to spot the Rover turned upside down. His heart leaps on his chest, and he has to stop to grab a lamp post for a second.

“Harry!” he shouts desperate, so desperate, as he gathers strength to walk again and rushes through the crowd to get to his family. “HARRY!”

A woman shouts “Someone call the ambulance” and another person answers “Already did” and everything is frantic and chaotic. Louis is shaking from head to toe. There's glass shattered on the ground and the roof is scrunched under the weight of the car and he can't see Harry or the children. Louis is panicking, looking around as people stare back at him astonished and hopeless.

“HARRY!” he screams again, and this time there's a faint call from across the street of what sounds like his own name. Louis stomps over the broken glass as he rushes to the other side of the car and he's so relieved when he recognizes Harry sitting on the pavement, nestling Alfie on his chest for his dear life.

There's a couple by his side and the woman is offering him a bottle of water. Louis is so relieved that for a spare second he doesn't notice that Tilly is missing. Harry looks up with an ugly cut on his cheek and another on his brow, and when he spots Louis he breaks down and starts crying.

“Tilly. She's there” he says as soon as Louis reaches for him, dragging him and Alfie into a messy, desperate hug. Harry is shaking uncontrolled and he mumbles against Louis' neck, tears and blood soaking the collar of Louis' white t-shirt. “She's still there, Louis. I told her to put her seatbelt and...”

“I know, love. I know” Louis says, and he doesn't even know how he manages to keep his voice stern when he feels like he's about to come apart too. But Harry looks so devastated that Louis automatically takes over the control. “I'll get her, ok. Just let me go and I'll be right back. Are you and Alfie fine?”

Harry is still clinging to him, crushing their boy between them and crying such ugly, painful sobs, that Louis feels his eyes watering too. “Please, Lou” he begs. “Our baby, please.”

“Sit down, Harry” Louis says when he finally manages to detach from his husband's grip. He's shivering from head to toe, more anxious than he ever felt these last months. He thinks he's about to collapse too, if it wasn't for Tilly needing him. “I'm- I'll be right back, yeah?”

He glances the solicitous couple and the woman nods and reaches down to squeeze Harry's shoulder comforting. More people seem to have gathered around and the bloody ambulance is still not there. Louis doesn't know if two or thirty minutes passed since he arrived, time seems to be the flimsiest of concepts now.

The sight of the overturned Rover with its tires in the air makes his stomach twist and he feels like getting sick or passing out, but that switch on his brain is still on and it's what makes him crawl down to the back window where he knows Tilly seat used to be.

Broken glass pierce his palms and even his knees through his trackies, but he doesn't notice, too rushed to care about anything but his daughter. The air smells of diesel and the sun of the end of the afternoon casts a bloody red light across the asphalt.

He pops his head inside the Rover and looks up to check the safety chair attached to the car seat and there she is. She's unconscious but by looking you can't tell if she's hurt. Tilly looks like a little angel sleeping in peace, suspended in the air. For the first time that day Louis' voice gets stuck on his throat and he has to dry swallow a lump before he finally manages to call, barely a whisper: “Tilly.”

Louis reaches inside the car to touch her face but hesitates – too afraid of how she might feel under his fingers, or of how he maybe will somehow hurt her. When he calls again, just one letter, a sobbed “T”, she opens her eyes.

His chest expands as Tilly looks at him drowsy, brown eyes hazy. The girl faintly smiles and mutters “Papa, you're here”. The tears that were prickling Louis eyes since he hugged Harry finally start to roll down his face.

“Yes, yes I'm here, me love” Louis agrees earnest, shaky voice washed with relieve. When her little hand reaches drown to grab his, tiny pale fingers wrapping around his, that's what grounds him. “I'm here with you. Always, yeah? Are you hurt? Does it hurt anywhere?”

She just tightens the grip on Louis' hand, still so delicate that Louis wants to cry even more. He loves her so much. So, so much, it's insane. And he feels so powerless as he just watches her strapped to the chair, dangling inside the upside down car.

He keeps whispering her sweet nothings, anything to try to keep her awake. It feels like there's just the two of them in the world, and his mission is to not let her pass out because somehow it sounds like the right thing to do.

“I'm never leaving you again, ok? Never. Papa is here with you and the ambulance is almost here... Everything will be alright ok, love? Tilly?” he calls when she seems to doze off. “T! Wake up, sweetheart. Wakie, wakie, eggs and bakey” Louis cherishes, squeezing her little chubby fingers. That earns him another weak smile. “Stay with me, please, Tilly. I love you so much. Promise to stay with, Papa? Hm?”

“Sir, we'll take it from here” someone says out of nowhere, forcefully holding him by the shoulder and pulling him out of the car. It's like being teleported back to a parallel apocalyptic universe where his family is being taken apart. But, instead, it's stark reality.

He stands there beside the Rover, completely lost, hugging himself. Louis watches a machine rip the bodywork with a loud terrifying sound, tearing it down as if it's made of paper. Two paramedics work on taking Tilly out of the car and another one approaches him.

“Are you the driver, sir?”

“No,” he says shaking his head, and that seems to take him out of his torpor and he's suddenly stung with a need to see Harry. “Where's Harry? Harry!”

“The other man?” The paramedic asks writing something down on her board. “He's being taken care in the other ambulance.”

“He's the driver and I need to see him. Now. He's my husband” Louis says, popped out eyes scanning around until he finds the flashing lights of the other ambulance parked a little down the street.

“It's ok sir, I'll have to ask you-” she says, but he leaves her talking alone, rushing back to Harry as he promised to do. Louis finds he sitting desolated on a stretcher, seeming only half alive as a paramedic puts a massive plaster over his cheek. When Louis gets closer he notices that Harry is watching as Alfie is examined inside the ambulance.

“How is she? Is she-?” he asks troubled as soon as he sees Louis, not daring to finish his sentence.

“She's... ok. They are taking care of her. How is Alfie?”

“Apparently he escaped unharmed. Not a single scratch.”

They share a confidential sad smile but Louis can't even rejoice about it right now.

“I'll check on Tilly, yeah? Stay here, I'll be back soon” Harry merely nods, playing with his fingernails, looking broken. Louis takes a deep breath before leaving. When he gets to the other ambulance they are getting the girl into it and she looks ridiculously tiny wrapped in one of those silver emergency blankets.

“Sir,” the same paramedic from before approaches him again, “are you her guardian? We need someone to accompany her to the hospital.”

“Yes, I- My husband. He needs to go too.”

“I'm sure he's taking the other vehicle...”

“No. I want him here. With me. I'm gonna get him myself.” He jogs back to where Harry's cradling Alfie and when he looks up at Louis he seems on verge of crying again. “Let's go” Louis says and Harry doesn't ask anything, just blinding trusts and follow him.

Louis guides Harry by the small of his back to the ambulance, such a familiar small gesture that he doesn't even notice, and when they sit beside each other, a tight fit on the small bench, they immediately hold hands. Until their knuckles turn white. Harry's eyes are glued on Tilly's pale face and purple lips.

The siren makes a nasty sound above their heads as the ambulance cuts the traffic to get to the nearest hospital and at that moment Louis wishes he knew how to pray. Instead, he grips Harry's hand, even though it has some splashes of dried blood in it, feeling withdrawn but at home. Louis bends down to caress Alfie's cheek and his son looks at him with recognition in his eyes, in a way that makes Louis heart leap on his chest.

“I'm sorry,” Harry says and Louis doesn't know if he's asking for forgiveness for crashing the car or because of everything, so he just looks at Harry with all the warmth and softness he has left and replies:

“I'm sorry too.”

-

Harry and Louis only get a chance to talk over a paper cup of weak tea when Liam and Zayn leave. And when they finally have time, they don't have the energy. So it's 5 PM and they're sitting at the cafeteria of the hospital staring at each other, stale biscuits sitting between them, but no one open their mouths. There's so much to say that it's hard to find where to begin.

They are so relieved now that they know that Tilly is relatively safe. One of her kidneys got damaged with collision and the doctors still can't tell how serious the injury is and if she'll have to have it removed, but she's alright. Or will be.

Alfie is sleeping on the same room as the girl and they only agreed to go down to have some tea after a nurse assured she wouldn't leave the kids unattended. Louis is thinking that they should really talk this through because their mothers are arriving in a few hours and they'll notice the tension between the couple first thing.

“We should... I mean, I don't even know where to begin” Louis admits helpless.

“Me neither” Harry says tired, eyes puffy and soulless.

“I'm sorry again. For everything” Louis apologizes, playing with the brim of his cup. “I've been so... such a terrible husband and such a terrible father since... I don't know, since forever. Maybe I'm not good at this fatherhood thing.”

“Don't say this” Harry says ducking his head and shaking it. “The children love you. They-” he chokes on the word, seeming affected, and Louis wants to reach across the table for Harry's hand, but he holds himself back. “They... well, Tilly asked about you all the time you were gone. And I... I couldn't make Alfie sleep the second night, yeah? He was just whinging, unable to sleep. So I put on one of your worn t-shirts and held him. And only then...” Harry trails off when he feels Louis fingers on his and he looks up for the first time since he started talking.

He forgets what he was saying and for a tense moment the silence is too big around them. In contrast, Louis' tears are too loud, too raw, but he doesn't wipe them. Harry doesn't move either, his eyes are still on Louis' bloodshot ones and his hand is still under his husband's. They say everything they need to discuss without having to say a single word.

“Just promise me you're going to look for help?” Harry says after a long time, when the Summer sun is already starting to rise in the dawn.

“Help?” Louis asks confused. “Like, your help when I'm feeling...”

Harry shakes his head again, tightening the grip on Louis hand. “No. Doctors. A proper treatment. I was looking up on the internet and I...” he hesitates.

“What?” Louis asks curious and still not quite understanding. Harry is chewing on his bottom lip like he does when he's nervous and what's he on about?

“I think you might have some sort of anxiety disorder” he blurts. Louis stares at him blank, processing what Harry just said, and he must look very shocked because Harry's rushing to say: “You don't have to think about this now. Not with Tilly...”

“I know, I know” Louis assures. “It's just... It makes a lot of sense, doesn't it?”

Harry nods and lets go of his hand to have a sip of tea, which must have gone cold by now. They stay in silence for another while, watching the sun rising and warming up the Earth with its orange glow through the window. It somehow reminds Louis of their last holiday in Caribbean. Now their lives aren't even close to what they thought they would be at that time.

There's so much resentment, so many wounds to heal, so much bitterness to be kissed away. If one year ago anyone had told Louis that his life would lead to this he would laugh at their faces because he thought at that time that he was on the top of the world. He and Harry were finally unreachable and invincible, or that's what he used to believe.

This past months have proven that no, they aren't unbeatable. They still have to nurture their relationship, even after ten years. At the same time, though, these past experiences also showed them how big is their love. How they still care and how important they still are for one another. Yes, there will be some scars, but they will be fine eventually.

“We are going to be fine, yeah?” Harry asks as if reading Louis' mind.

“I hope so. I'm going to try my best to make this work” he says squeaky, voice catching up on the end of his throat. He takes a sip of his own tea before continuing: “I'd do the impossible for you, you know? For the three of you.”

And there he is. That's his Harry again, right there behind that weak smile and under those layers of exhaustion and heartache.

“Are you really sure this is what you want?” he asks trying to hide away all the concern and Louis thinks Harry is so silly. Doesn't he see Louis will never leave him? Doesn't he see that he's everything Louis ever needed and will always need?

“Harry,” he says soft, as if he's talking to a butterfly that might fly away at any moment, “I've never wanted anything more in my life than to have a family with you. These past couple of days have been _hell_. I...”

“Just promise you'll come to me?” Harry interrupts, holding his husband's hand one more time. “When you're feeling bad, promise you'll tell me? I can't even bare imagining what you must have been through without me. I was so blind...”

“It' not your fault. I'm the one to blame,” he says rubbing circles with his thumb on Harry's soft hand. “Ok, mostly my fault,” he adds when he sees Harry's about to protest. “I'm so sorry, Harry. So, so sorry.”

“I'm sorry as well. Are we ok?” Harry asks again and Louis wants to say yes. So badly. But that's not the truth and he's not lying to Harry anymore.

“Not yet. But we're going to be, yeah?” That seems to be enough to appease Harry, but Louis is not content with that, so he goes around the table and Harry realises that he's going for a reconciliatory hug before Louis in fact wraps him around his arm. “Promise” he mutters against the mess that is Harry hair and it doesn't really matter if his husband has heard or not because Louis is setting a goal to himself. They are going to be ok, no matter at what costs.

-

The Saturday starts promising; for mid-November, mind you. It's windy, but the sky is clear and a pale sun fights its way between swirling clouds. So it's a small victory that there isn't raining, but they will probably stay mostly inside for the rest of the day.

It's Alfie's first birthday but his parents were the ones who got the present: like the big boy that he's now, he sleeps way past 8 AM, which gives Harry and Louis plenty of time to have a laid-back fry-up for breakfast and to put up all the decoration around the house.

The theme of the party, chosen by Tilly, is Buzzy Bee, so now their living room is basically an explosion of yellow and black. They hired a trio of clowns to entertain the kids and paint their faces. There's paella as lunch for the grown ups and enough sweets to make London's dentists thousands of pounds richer.

Alfie is dressed in the cutest bee costume ever, little wings and everything. He just learnt how to walk, two weeks ago, so Harry and Louis will probably be busy chasing him during the party while he waddles around the house. The weather is so pleasant that Louis decides to put on the goalposts just in case someone fancies a footie later.

“Don't come outside in that dress, young lady” he shouts as he spots a runaway Tilly escaping from the porch's door and sprinting on his direction, ruining her prim dress on the wet grass. “Not until your grandma is here.”

She's breathless when she reaches his end of the field. “Nana Twist or Nana D?” she asks cheeky.

“Both.”

“That's not fair” she says crossing her arms, and she's still grumpy when Louis lifts her from the ground and carries her back to the house. “It's not my birthday.”

She's so witty that Louis can't help but feel a little proud and a lot amused, but Harry gets mad if Louis laughs when Tilly is being naughty, so he has to control himself.

“Life isn't fair” he answers, face twitching in a funny way and mouth contorting so he won't laugh. Inside it's warm and cosy, and it's smelling of vanilla scent and rubber balloons. “Now, would you go bug Daddy just for a change? I have to go get Alfie's gift.”

“But we will still play football? Outside?”

“We will see” he says setting her down again and as she skips her way down to the kitchen he notices a damp spot at the hem of her dress. Harry's going to have a fit.

Alfie's gift is a puppy that Louis' hiding on the laundry room until all the guests are there. He knows it's not a personal gift per se – no one's expecting a one-year old to mind a dog, – so he got him some toys as well. But it's not like Louis used his son's birthday to finally get that dog that he wanted so much. Really.

At 11 AM everyone's there. Even Niall has flown from LA, saying that he's probably staying this side of the Atlantic till next year. Their old neighbours from the old building are there as well, the couple and their new baby, and Louis thinks of how long they've come. Last Christmas they weren't even pregnant.

“Hey, Lou” Harry calls, coming from behind him and wrapping a hand around his waist. “Can you please check if I forgot the party hats upstairs?”

“They're on the pantry, I'll catch them” and before he leaves he lands a quick kiss on his husband because they're on a honeymoon phase that got his friends all groaning at how sickening sweet they are. Louis finds it very flattering and makes a show of being a sap.

“I'm seriously concerned about my niece and nephew's health...” Gemma says when Louis is back and tugged under Harry's arm.

“Why's that?” Harry asks, and for his tone he already knows what his sister is going to answer.

“They might... I don't know, have their eyesight compromised by diabetes or something. You two are disgusting.”

Lottie laughs from the other side of the counter before she pops some squares of cheese on her mouth and takes a sip of her wine. They are surrounded by traitors. Their own blood backstabbing them like that.

“I'm sorry your man doesn't fill your expectations” Louis says not sounding sorry at all.

“Oh, he does” Gemma says raising her eyebrows maliciously.

“I don't think I want to hear this” Harry interrupts flustered. “Let's keep it PG rated, it's a kid' party.”

“Stop snogging the face off of your husband, then” Lottie jokes, and Gemma shares a confident smile with her.

“I'm just snogging Harry because I still feel guilty about my midlife crisis,” Louis mocks elbowing Harry lightly where they are connected.

“You shouldn't joke about that” Harry reprimands softly because he always takes Louis attempts to dismiss his anxiety very seriously.

“Yeah, I'm sorry. Ok, admittedly I'm trying to distract him so he won't scold me because of the present I got for Alfie.” Louis squeezes his side, where there's a well-known fern tattoo, and Harry jumps away instinctively. When he looks at Louis, Louis notices that Harry's mouth is contorting funnily like when he's trying to hold back a smile.

“Louis. No. You did not” he tries to say cross, but barely hiding his amusement.

“What?” Gemma asks confused. She hates when they are like this, talking in only half sentences and not letting anyone in.

“I think he's got them a dog?” Lottie guesses.

“Ding ding ding” Louis mocks, raising his glass of grape juice. “Cheers, little sister! That's exactly what happened. Maybe we should call him Bruce II, what you think?” he asks turning to Harry.

“I think” his husband says pointedly, “that you should've asked me before getting it.”

“Wait until you see his cute face, you won't be so mean then” and to make his point Louis tries to mimic Bruce II's puppy eyes. Harry chuckles and pecks him on the lips.

“Could you please go get it on the laundry and give to Alfie already?” Harry asks, cheeks rosy and a silly smile on his face, because he can't believe that's his husband. The man he's married to.

“You knew it?”

“Yes. Some of us go to the laundry quite often, you know? To wash some clothes, put them in the tumble dryer...”

After they sing happy birthday and cut the cake the weather looks so nice, dry and cool, that they decide to take the party outside. The kids are running free on the backyard and the adults watching from the set of tables, sipping on wine and beer and eventually getting up to check on the children.

The birthday boy spent most of the afternoon waddling so wild that now he sleeps deeply on a carry cot. Perrie is organizing a football match with the kids but Louis decides he's too tipsy to join in, so he sends Harry to represent the Styles-Tomlinson household.

“Promise to kick his ars... butt?” Zayn asks kissing his wife when she gets to the table to get a hairclip.

“With Harry's footie reputation I don't think it'll be that hard” she says winking like a menace at the hosts.

Louis squeezes Harry's thigh under the table reassuring and messes up with his hair the same way he used to do when his husband was sixteen. “You two are terrible people” he calls out sounding too offended for someone who's pretty much responsible for spreading around how much of a bad player Harry is.

Watching Harry jog to join Tilly, a smile larger than life spreading across his face when the girl hugs him by the long legs, Louis thinks for the first time in months that they are finally fine again. They are fine just like he promised they would be.

And hopefully they'll keep being fine for a long time.


End file.
